


Big Eyes

by alw0021



Category: Death Note, Death Note: Another Note
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Declarations Of Love, Drama & Romance, First Kiss, First Time, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:37:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3343916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alw0021/pseuds/alw0021
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe where L defeats Kira, Beyond isn't killed, and Near is still fated to be the next successor. Near visits Beyond on his 18 birthday to ask him questions about his relationship with L and experiences as a successor for a project directed by the famous detective. But, maybe there are other reasons Near has chosen to visit the infamous boy with red eyes. (story continues in "Soft")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Eyes

“What’s your name?” Such a simple question, it must be safe to ask. I’ve never had a visitor other than L. He came a few times and even located a few donors for my skin transplants. I was lucky according to the doctors. My skin is a testament to my failure. Except that part of my upper body is still smooth and almost flawless. The flames started at the bottom, they crawled up my legs, curving around my ankles and calves like twisting serpents. All I could think about was how delicious L’s face would taste if I could lick it. I wanted to lick off that smug childish smirk he would get when he had won a game, when he had bested his opponent. Because this time, he would have failed and I would have been the victor. I know every face that L can make but not that one. The face of failure eluded me and I’ll never get the chance to see it from inside this place. Some people forget that I learned how to mimic him by example. I spent so much time with him at Wammys, idolizing him and striving to impress him. I wish he’d come visit me again. But, the doctors tell me that focusing on someone so much isn’t healthy so we’ll let that trip down memory lane fade away like water escaping through spread fingers.

The stranger in front of me moves and his chair squeaks. “My name is Near. I wanted to come and visit with you.” His white fingers move up to twist a lock of his curly hair. It’s a bit long for him, just hitting his shoulders. I suppress a smile at the memory of Mello. He would comb his hair 30 strokes on each side till it looked like fresh honey dripping out of the hive after it had been smashed open and its occupants slaughtered. But, this memory only serves to remind me that I haven’t seen him in so long and he wouldn’t even know me anymore. This Near isn’t like Mello. When Mello walked into a room everyone took notice. His demeanor demanded it. Rough and tuff attitude made him a name and reputation that I could respect if not adore. He was adorable and I heard he penned a book. I’d like to read it one day. “This is where you tell me your name and we have a pleasant conversation. Or, if you’d rather, I can always leave.” His eyes drink me in as he waits for me to reply. His lips are the softest pink, almost like the color was dusted on lovingly by the hand of God himself. His cheek bones are high but delicate and his skin, his skin…I just... I reach out to touch him and he watches me. Slowly, I move forward but before I reach him I decided it’s better to just not. Instead, my hand goes to the cup of tea that’s been set on my bedside table. It’s the only object other than an old tattered copy of A Picture of Dorian Grey. One would expect someone to look surprised when a volatile and insane serial killer attempts to touch them but I can tell he’s had the same training we all have. We hide our feelings behind carefully constructed masks and just so they don’t pop up and cloud our judgment we leave these aforementioned feelings at the end of intricately crafted mazes that no one can solve. We’re all so smart, so gifted and utterly devastatingly alone. 

“You know my name. It’s not protected like yours. I gave up those perks when I decided to do things on my own.” There are biscuits on the table waiting to be eaten. “You wouldn’t happen to have any-“ he cuts me off and pulls out of his pockets a few packets of jam. In fact, he’s wearing what looks to be snow white pajamas. I didn’t notice it when he came in but since all the doctors and nurses here wear white I figured he was a new orderly, though they’ve not given me a male orderly for quite some time. The last one ended up hanged in the stairwell. Suicide, I assure you. “I heard you liked jam. I thought it would be appropriate to bring some. Beyond, I’d like to talk to you about your relationship and obsession with L.” 

I opened the jam slowly and sucked out the contents; jam as red as blood left a striking residue in the plastic bag. I can see his face through the transparent plastic; it warped as I twisted it in the light. His face is patient and even with the amount of distortion from my toy I loved how his lips looked. Before this moment I loved only two things: jam and cleanliness. But, I was asked a question so I should answer. “What about L? I heard he won against Kira so there isn’t much to talk about.” Near shifted to sit with his legs crossed in the chair, the thin white fabric clung to his legs revealing a surprising amount of muscle. Well, Wammy did train us in self defense. His clothes were so pristine. He looked virginal but the way he nervously bit his lip revealed a hidden sensuality that most would be unaware of; most, but not I. “Well, in truth, he wanted us to do something a little out of the box in order to hone our deductive skills. He said I should specifically focus on life skills since I don’t have as many as other potential successors.” With that he shifts his shoulders and continues “I thought that by meeting with a former successor that chose a different path, I could better understand why or what could cause someone to change their goals and the nature of the work we are expected to do once L is no longer L” I felt myself convulse as I started to laugh. I could see the mask Near hid himself behind falter for just a moment and I was surprised by the emotion I saw. My distinctive laugh inspired a few emotions in people but that was a new one. “Well, what I have deducted from our conversation so far is that you wanted to see how the pressures of L could have caused a successor to go insane and attempt suicide just to one-up the world’s greatest detective. I hate to say it, angel, I was already insane at I believe my purpose was clear if you reviewed the case. I don’t see how this is helping you gain any life experiences, to be honest. You must have another reason then.” Near smiled slightly and twirled a curl around that long, sweet, bone white finger. The nails were manicured to perfection. 

Everything about him was soft and hazy. I took him for an albino but his eyes were wrong. He leveled his onyx gaze on me and I suppressed the urge to groan. That was a new one, even for me. “I guess there is no point in playing games. I’m interested in you not just for research purposes. You interest me because you’re so different from any of the other successors. I’ve studied the case and read Mello’s book about it over and over. Why do you mimic him with make-up? Was the need to be him and then beat him so strong you decided to become him symbolically? Like a hunter who thinks like his prey but instead becomes one with his prey?” Near was leaning forward so much that I could smell his scent. He smells like vanilla and sweet innocence. “I did what I did because I simply wanted to wear L like a second skin. Though, it was a bit like the hunter wanting to become worthy of the prey. L is a kill that only comes around in a hunter’s life once. Don’t misunderstand, I wanted to beat him, not kill him. Wound his pride and confidence.” Near blinks owlishly at me and with another warm puff of air from that delectably sweet mouth he whispers “Why did you not try to kill him?” Of course, L himself asked me this and maybe he put Near up to asking me. For once, though, I felt like giving the answer: “I could never kill L. If I killed him then the game would be over. That perfect prey I spent all of my time stalking would be gone. There would never be another one like him. As long as he is alive so is the possibility that I will one day cover myself with his pelt.” With that, Near handed me a tissue to wipe my jam covered hands off. The jam has stained my hands so much that it looks like I dipped them in blood. How symbolic. 

Near shifted again but, this time to stand. “Do you want to go outside? I got permission since it’s my birthday and L signed off.” He nodded towards the door. I hadn’t been outside in months. I smirked and shrugged. “Angel, are you sure you want to be with me and a nurse not be nearby?” He laughed a bit before replying “Angel? Is that what I am? Yes, I’m sure. I don’t go outside much but today is nice. It’s been 8 months since you last left this room. You shouldn’t kill orderlies. They’re just doing their jobs.” Smart kid and witty, too. His eyes show a flicker of playfulness when I shrug. “We can go outside.” He opened the door and a nurse quickly ran by. Her terror was written across her face and I watched a blush deepen on her neck as she went down the hall. Her supple ass bouncing up and down would have distracted any normal person but my little angel was looking right at me, judging my reaction in a fashion similar to L. In fact, Near could have been L’s own son. Their eyes the same emotionless black with bags that only makeup could reproduce, yes he was definitely a worthy successor but I didn’t like the idea of letting this angel get his wings. 

He turns to me with an unsure look and says “Are you ready?” Such a simple question and yet there were many layers to it. I’d have to wait and see just how deeply he wanted to sink into those layers. I’m aggressive but that doesn’t mean I like to always control my prey. I like to stalk them while they feel secure, while they feel like they are free of my attention. The illusion of freedom flavors their soul and it is most delicious when I rip it from them and devour it. The walk to the garden was short, endless white tiled floors and walls. Stark like the comparison between me and this angel. Though burned over most of my body my black loose fitting long sleeved shirt hid the scars on my arms and my black pants cover my legs and pool at my feet. I don’t wear shoes. I can agree with L that shoes are a hindrance. I notice him looking at my scarred feet as we entered the garden, the sun illuminated everything. Near shielded his eyes and hissed. He really doesn’t go out much. “Where would you like to walk first?” His jaw is clenched and his eyes are brimming with tears from the light. His pain stirs something in me, something located deep down inside of the abyss that is me, and I know that I can never let him go. I don’t want to let this pure lamb go off to be sanctified by someone else. He’s unsullied and I want to absolutely wreck him. 

I walk on and he follows in silence. We’re not actually outside; they wouldn’t let their patients actually have the opportunity to escape. The garden is an open air atrium with a ceiling made from the branches of old and weathered tree. Sunlight falls through the tiny openings creating prisms of color on the surface of the small reflection pond. There isn’t much that one could call dirt but light beige sand with small beads of glass. The monotone landscape continued from the inside out. We come up on a rod iron bench and sit down. He sits himself last and close to me. I take the opportunity to move closer with our thighs touching softly. “Why did you really come to see me, Near?” His long eyelashes flutter and I can smell him even better out here. Inside, the smell of antiseptic tarnishes everything but outside his natural scent permeates through his clothes. “I told you, I am interested in you. I am interested in what you’ve done. We don’t have to talk about L or the case or anything. I just wanted to get to know you better.” His voice conveys a subtle double entendre, but is that really what he means? “Is it a game you’re wanting to play, angel? I think you’re trying to be coy. You’ve come here because I interest you but I want to hear you tell me why exactly I interest you. If you know everything about the case already and it’s the person you want to know more about then ask. Ask me about my life before Wammy’s house, ask me about my parents, my childhood, ask me about anything. I can’t promise you I’ll answer.” He snorted and shook his head, looking back at me he says “I’d like to know more about your eyes and personality in person. Plus, Mello wrote about your family so there is no point in bringing up painful memories.” That was new. I had no idea Mello’s book had anything to do with me. There isn’t much that an insane asylum will let a patient like me read, let alone something about me. 

Before I knew what was happening, he took my hand in his. My scarred fingers were intertwined with his and I could feel the pulse of his blood thrumming through. His marble skin so smooth and soft transfixed me, the tiny blue veins criss-crossed tendons and through bone. I want to eat him. Break his bones open and suck the marrow out. “I want to know, what do you see when you look at me? I’ve had these dreams, you see, dreams about you where you’re at the end of hallways or inside empty rooms waiting for something. I realize all too late you’re waiting for me; waiting to do horrible things to me. The one I have the most is where I’m in a locked room and L crawls out from underneath my bed. I can’t move as I lay there on the soft sheets. I know I’ve been drugged and that’s why I can move. I feel so heavy, like lead. I’m not scared because it’s L. He’d never hurt me. And then I feel the weight of the bed shift and a hand on my lower stomach moving my shirt up. I close my eyes. I’ve never wanted L, so I don’t understand at first why this feels so good or why it feels so strange, because something isn’t right. I feel like the trails his fingers are tracing are hot and painful, so I open my eyes and look down. He’s over me above my stomach and I see what looks like, perhaps, red jam? It has a texture but is also fluid. Then I realize that it’s my blood and tissues and fat and that I’m gapping wide open. I look up in fear to see L’s face but it’s not him. No, the eyes that look back at me are red. They bore into me and the smile that’s fixed itself on his face can only belong to one person.” He looks at me and holds my gaze. Seconds or minutes pass, I have no idea. Then he turns to look out at the pond and with an exhale of air he continues “I was terrified when I thought that it was L killing me. I was shocked. But, when I found out it was really you, Beyond, I felt…differently. I relaxed and closed my eyes, let you continue and when I woke up I was sad. I wished that it wasn’t a dream. When L wanted us to think outside the box I thought this was my opportunity. The only time anyone would get permission to come see you and I took it. I needed to meet you and see how I would feel if you were right here in front of me, the infamous Beyond Birthday: The monster that lived among us.” His hand is hot now in my mine but still so perfect. I never want to let him go.

I move to stand and we make our way around the atrium once more in silence. Another nurse runs by but not before casting a look of sympathy to Near when she saw our laced fingers and locked hands. We make our way back to my room. Of course, the room is rather small like most here but by far it is more furnished. My full size bed is against the left wall in the corner. The side fits against the radiator, flanked on the right by my rather large desk. It’s actually a drafting table, a gift from L when he heard I became interested in drawing and architecture. He used some of my blue prints in the creation of his own headquarters. Not the smartest thing but I’m sure he made significant changes so that he wouldn’t be at risk if I ever got free. Near is making his way over towards the window. I can admire the way his legs look in those thin pants. They’re basically transparent while he stands in the sun and his hair makes him look angelic, like a halo should be floating right above him. I’d love to pull that halo down and choke him with it. 

Maybe it’s not normal all of these thoughts. I’ve found myself this whole time wanting to devour him, beat him, abuse him, and defile him. Maybe, this is what my therapist has been talking about all of these years. But, I don’t actually want to kill him, do I? He turns around with his hands in his pockets. “Well, B, I have to go now. They only gave me a two hour pass and it’s been three. The car has been waiting for me now for a good hour. It’s rude for me to make them wait, right?” The corners of his baby mouth pulled up when he see the obvious smirk my own makes. He didn’t give a damn about that what was polite; he just wanted to let me know he was leaving now. Leaving me, leaving after he got what he wanted which was a day with the insane BB. Well, we can’t have only one party getting what they want, right? I crossed the floor as sure as ever before cornering him against the window. His face flushed and hands gripped the pipes of the radiator and my head board. I leaned in close, my knee between parted thighs and allowed my lips to brush past his cheeks on the way to his ear where I whispered, “It was nice to meet you, little angel. Perhaps, you should visit hell more often?” I stepped back only for him to grab my shoulders and attempt to me into a kiss. He forced my knee against him, grinding that perfect little body down and against me. His lips parted with a gasp as he moved in for the kill. I held him off, what good would it do to give in? I should deny him, make him suffer; make him come back for more. I should make him want to come back to me.

The door to my room opened and two orderlies entered with someone from Wammy’s house, a body guard. “Are you alright Near?” The tall, stocky man levels me a glare and moves to restrain me. I watch as Near’s flushed face returns to it’s cold and impassive façade we are all taught to use. “No, I’m fine. We can go now.” He squeezes my hand and looks back over his shoulder at me before the door closes. I watch him enter the black Mercedes and return to the safety of heaven before I start screaming and rip my pillows apart. I won’t let him get away. I’m surrounded by down feathers in a hell painted white and all I can do is think of how beautiful it would be if he really had wings and I ripped them off and these were his feathers bloodied and fractured. Yes, I won’t let him go. I found a new prey and today will mark the beginning of a new obsession. Tomorrow I return to the hunt. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I’ve always been quite, a loner, and different from the others at Wammys. No matter what I did I just couldn’t maintain meaningful relationships. Perhaps, I could have helped break down the walls of my isolation if I had joined them in their social courtesies but that’s all pointless to me. I just wanted to return to the task at hand, solve the puzzle. Until I started reading Mello’s book I had never really felt much other than depression and apathy. While reading, I felt things I didn’t even know how to describe. Mello had always been my idol, whether he accepts that or not. I wanted to be like him and if he and Matt had not been so obviously destined to be together I would have wanted him in every sense of the word. 

The story of Beyond captured my interest not only because it was a good story and a good case, but he had been in my own position. As a possible successor he could understand the pressures I endure. We here at Wammy’s house cling together because we are the only ones that can comfort one another. Unfortunately, I knew that as a complex puzzle myself, I was missing a piece. There was no one to comfort me, not the way I needed to be comforted. What I found myself doing was thinking more and more about Beyond Birthday, wondering about the monster that lived among us as Rodger put it and then, even more than I would like to admit, I thought about him while I was alone in the dark. I’d imagine not only the emotional comfort he might be able to provide me but the very real physical comfort I was craving. My hips would tremble and my body would ache with the thought of those red eyes. I knew that in order to understand my obsession with this man I needed to meet him and confirm for myself that he was what I craved.

Today was the day I had waited for. He was magnificent. Body lean and scarred but his neck and face were still intact. Of course, there were signs that he’d suffered some sort of trauma around his ears and collar bone but for the most part he looked as I expected. It has been told to over and over that through extensive layers of makeup Beyond achieved the look of L. While that is true, in person without makeup he still bears a striking resemblance to him. I would have a difficult time choosing between them and I’ve known L since I was 4 years old. 

As I enter my apartment of Wammy’s that was allotted to me when I was 16 I can’t help but think about how empty it is. 18 years old today and I live in an apartment set aside specifically from me since Rodger felt that I would be unable to live on my own. I’ve only known Wammy’s house and the employees. He’s not too far off the mark. I don’t do well when left on my own without support from others. I’d rather build something or play with toys than worry about the logistics of food and other trivial things. I also just don’t want to be left alone again. I want a family. Even though I know that’s an unachievable dream. The successor of L can’t have relationships like that and I doubt I’d be able to actually be a productive member in one.

With that, I go about my duties working cases in to the wee hours of the morning. Around 3 am my bodyguard knocks on the door with a plate of cookies and warm milk. “L said he thought you’d want these. He made them himself.” L has never made me something to eat but it is my birthday. Sweets are his trademark so I eat the cookies and drink the milk. They taste very good and naturally, very sweet. It isn’t long until I feel sleep overtake me and John carries me to my room. I feel the cool white sheets touch the skin of my hands and feet. John covers me and I drift into the darkness. 

The darkness envelops me caressing me with the light touch of a caring mother. The hand feels so real, less of a caress now and more like a rapping against my skin. It feels like something is gripping my jaw. It hurts too much to be a dream. I open my eyes to see the dark room illuminated by the light of the moon from my window. I am alone, like always so very alone. The silence is broken by the rustle of fabric dragging against carpet. I see a familiar apparition appear at the side of my bed. It’s the same dream again. He sits on the side of the bed and I feel the weight dip the mattress. I thought I was awake but it was merely a case of a dream within a dream. He turns to look at me and for the first time I realize I know who this is from the beginning. There is no moment where I believe its L in my room crawling out from under my bed. This is a new development and I wonder how it will play out. Right now, I’m more aware that he’s so close and I want him to move over me already. I’m ready to be devoured again. My body is slowly becoming my own once more. My limbs are not as heavy. I don’t remember being this alert in the other dreams but this isn’t looking like it’ll be anything like the others. He stretches his arms out towards me and moves the fabric of my shirt up my stomach revealing toned muscles and porcelain skin. His fingers skirt over my sides then travel to my nipples where his thumbs stroke them. He leans over to take one into his hot mouth and I gasp. The sensation is so real that my skin is flushing and soon I’m panting beneath him. He straddles my waist while his hands travel the entirety of my upper body. He’s licking and biting, scratching and bruising, it’s all so real and I never want it to end. My moans fill the room as the minutes pass until he takes my chin in his iron grip. For the first time I wonder if this isn’t actually a dream but Beyond has never tried to escape. Besides, L chose the asylum because it was nearly impenetrable. The look on my face must amuse him as he tightens his grip bruising me and sending painful and pleasure filled shivers down my spine. I’m painfully erect and my underwear is soaked from arousal. He looks at me in the eyes before emitting a low chuckle. I’m sure that this isn’t a dream anymore. "I thought I’d come visit my little angel in heaven. Are you happy to see me, baby?" His lips curl up to form a devious smirk, a glint of hell fire in his red eyes.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Wide doe eyes of darkness are before me. His lithe frame pressed into the mattress; the duvet crumpling around us like a billowing cloud. His pupils are blown wide and he keens loudly as I grind into him. Oh God, that sound makes me feel on fire. The look of his eyes rolling back in his head causes heat to pool in my lower stomach and then there is the fact that he’s not resisting me at all. He reaches out to touch my face with a morbid curiosity, tracing the areas where scars are concentrated. His fingers find my lips and I kiss each tip lightly, nipping them quickly after because the tiny gasps he makes drives me insane. I push his arm down and my hands begin to travel the expanse of his body until I remove all of his clothes. That delicious mouth of his tempts me, tells me to bite it off and swallow the tiny bits of flesh down until I start on the rest of him. But, I don’t dare taste him yet. I need him laid even barer, therefore I remove myself from the bed and fade into the darkness. 

Breathless and aroused he lays on the bed still drowsy from the drugs. I listen to his uneven breathing: pant, pant, whimper, pant, pant, whine... He’s whining so desperately. I shall taint him, taste him, and rip his wings off. He’ll be my little angel forever. So I return to the bed where he lifts his arms grabbing at me. His hands roam my torso as I sit astride him again. Still drugged, he fumbles trying to remove my clothes so I help him by removing them myself. My scarred body must be frightening to normal people. I don’t think much about it. All of the friends I have are either in my head or don’t find the time to visit. It isn’t too bad when the only person you’re pleasuring is yourself in the dark of a cold room while listening to the random bouts of screaming and crying from other patients. But this time is different. This time someone else is going to witness my failure, my shame written on my body, the fact that L won once again and I never got to taste him. I wonder if his loss would have tasted sweet or bitter? What type of jam would it be like? Another whine and subsequent whimper as I grind down and pinch a dusty pink nipple breaks my reverie. I’d love to save his lips for last but I can no longer resist the silent invitation they send parted and wet from drool. 

When our mouths crash together I can tell many things: This is his first real kiss but he’s got promise and talent. He’s more than willing to let me use him in any way that I see fit. His fervor is born of countless nights fantasizing about this moment and that really makes my cock twitch. He worships me and fears me. This hunter will wound his prey and then domesticate it. I want him on display for me every day so that I can take from him his nubile innocence little by little. This body, that face, those eyes send waves of longing over me and when he arches into me I drink the moans in the back of his throat up like sweet cherry wine. I can’t hold back any longer. My desire burning in me until it reaches its fever pitch. My hands find the back of his head pulling it back by his hair. Rough, that’s the way it’s got to be the first time. He has to know he’s being claimed, mated like the animals do, as the submissive, because I will never submit to any one or thing. A pound of marble flesh is what I will take. I offer my fingers up to his mouth where they are greedily taken in and lathered in attention. His hot slick mouth causes my cock to twitch uncontrollably. I lick some of his fluid and can’t help but moan. He tastes like strawberry jam. Those beautiful baby eyes look back at me, watching me, offering me such devotion that I remove my fingers and spread his legs wide to expose his most intimate area. My mouth leaves a trail of open kisses down his chest and stomach, enjoying the animalistic pleading of his moans. I stop at his weeping erection to place a chaste kiss on the tip. I want to take it in and taste my baby but that’s something I can do after he’s been claimed. My fingers circle his entrance and soon one, then two, and a then three of my fingers find their way into the silky virgin territory. 

Gasping and moaning like a whore he writhes beneath me. I remove my fingers and line myself up with him. His hands bawled in sheets release to search for purchase on my body. He has no idea what his touch does to my scarred skin, what it does to my insides and how the twist and turn over with emotions I’ve never felt before. He’s my little angel and I’m about to rip those shinning wings off. With one last whimper from him I plunge all in, feel his silky heat around me, throbbing, and clenching around me. I could lose myself right there. I wish I could crawl up in him and die, wear him like a second skin, and never release him. 

His breathing slows and I start up a brutal pace. Yelling and tearing at me he accepts me fully every time, meeting me thrust for thrust. It’s hard to believe that this is his first time but I’ve been visiting him in his dreams for some time now. Maybe he took it upon himself to learn about sex on the off chance I would actually show up. I’m hitting his special spot with every thrust and the tightness of his insides is better than anything I’ve ever felt. He comes too soon from the assault on his prostate but I’m not finished. I plan on going as long and hard as possible. Moans fall from his open mouth as I bite the sensitive skin around his collar bone. My fingers twist his nipples and after a while he is erect again and weeping all over our stomachs. I swear, I must have dreamed this boy. There is no way he exists. Not someone who can look so pure and young while lying on his back covered in sweat keening and moaning as he’s pounded into a mattress. He’s not just having sex with someone he met at a bar or at work; no he’s bedding a serial killer, one that has decided to worship him. What does that say about his sanity? As a successor of L, this is one of the worst choices in judgment one could make. To take me, BB, into bed and allow me full reign, well, I’m flattered but I’m sure L would not be happy with this. He’d be jealous, or at least he should be.

I can feel the heat coiling in me spurred on by the sweet sounds he’s making. That smooth neck calls to me and I wrap my hands around it, careful to only squeeze the sides. His back arches and he jerks. A long sensual moan strangles in his throat. My angel likes it rough and that suites me just fine. His onyx eyes capture me. They’re shinny from tears pooling at the corners. His hands grasp my wrists but not to pull me off but to rub slowly, “Please….please…” he wheezes out between thrusts. “Please what angel? What do you want?” With baited breath I wait for him to reply. His pupils dilate and his grip tightens. “I want to taste you. I want your mouth.” Who am I to deny him?

As our mouths crash together again, teeth, tongue, and lips I taste every inch of him. Sweetness like never before, I release my grasp and his arms encircle my neck, moving his legs to grip my waist. I’m so close to finishing but I slow down. His movements become less desperate as do mine. We savor our last moments locked in a lovers embrace. Over and over between gasps of air I hear my name fall from his kiss swollen lips. A symphony dedicated to me by Gabriel himself. He comes again and I reach down between us, gather up his seed, and bring it to my lips to taste. As I climax it’s a fury of white, white light, white skin, and white sheets. Tiny rose colored nails scrape down my scarred back drawing spurts of hot blood. As I collapse exhausted and boneless, his lips find the space below my ear and his breath causes goose bumps to form over my skin. “I’m glad you could visit all the way from hell.” I feel a smirk form on my skin. My angel’s got some humor it seems. I scoff and reply “Any time, angel.” 

As I pull out of him he lets out a whimper, not of pain but because he wanted me to stay inside him. He sits up so that our noses touch. “B, how did you get out?” pale fingers trace patterns over my thigh and up my stomach. “Does it matter, Nate?” His eyes widen. “So, it is true. You have the shinigami eyes.” His eyes become playful and he kisses the tip of my nose. A growl springs forth from my throat. He kisses it again before teasing, “You know when I’m going to die, too?” Of course, I know when my little angel with breathe his last breath. I know his name, death date, and now I know how tight he feels around me and what sounds he makes when thoroughly fucked. I know a lot about him and yet there is much more to learn. How this is going to work out is a mystery because I can’t keep sneaking out and I can’t give up what is rightfully mine. I need him to understand that. My hand covers his, “You’re mine; No one else’s. You belong only to me, submit only to me, are touched only by me, and fucked only by me. Do you understand?” I feel him shift to crawl in my lap. He twists to face into the crook of neck and I wrap him up in my long strong arms. The silence of the room is accented by the black and white tones of the moon’s shadows. It’s nothing like the rooms I committed my murders in. This room is filthy by my standards. Our scents and fluids on the sheets, crumbs on a plate overlooked by a maid, but even though it’s not how I would have left things I find it endearing of this 18 year old boy. Because, that’s what he is, a boy: childlike and naïve. 

“I don’t want to belong to anyone else, Beyond. But, you’ve broken the law and I don’t know how this is going to work out. Soon, they’ll notice you’re missing. L will be alerted. They’ll come in here because I was to last and only person in years to have seen you. We’ll” Silenced by my mouth he melts into me. Tiny pleased sounds gurgle in his throat as I card my fingers through his long curly hair. I whisper soothingly, “You know what? You’ll find a case similar to mine, you’ll ask that I be moved closer and act as a sort of specialist. L will be hesitant but then again if we can show that I’ve made improvements to my behavior and that you would benefit from my special skills then we could arrange a very agreeable and manageable existence for a while. Until then I’ll just sneak back in every so often and then I’ll sneak back out. I doubt they’ve noticed I’m gone.” I let loose a deep chuckle as my precious boy snuggled closer into me, nodding his approval as he leaves tender kisses against my chest. I’m not going to lose him. He’s going to be my angel forever, even if I have to kill us both.


End file.
